


Sherlock Becomes an Alley Cat Who Spends Nighttimes in 221B

by SwaggerDownTheStreet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Cat Sherlock, Crack, Every. Situation, Gen, In Every Situation, Sherlock Knows How to Mantain His Dignity, Takes Place Before the Fall, because screw canon, how did this happen?, nobody that's who, screw you this is enough plot for a crack fic, shameless crack, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24283702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwaggerDownTheStreet/pseuds/SwaggerDownTheStreet
Summary: *gestures theatrically at title* Sherlock eats something funny and wakes up as a cat. Hilarity ensues. Sherlock is very done with everything.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Sherlock Becomes an Alley Cat Who Spends Nighttimes in 221B

John Watson was very done with his flatmate's antics.

So, being the scheming schemer that he wasn't, he hatched a scheme. He asked Mrs. Hudson, the ~~housekeeper~~ landlady, to make some of her Famous Quality Chocolate Biscuits Yum, because that was the only thing that Sherlock Holmes would eat when he was in his ~~Princess Castle~~ _"Mind Palace"._

Sherlock was on a case, and he hadn't slept for fourty three hours, thirty seven minutes, fifty two seconds, and counting, because "Sleep is for ordinary people, John." 

So, John took matters into his own doctorly hands. He took Mrs. Hudson's most fresh buscuits up to Sherlock, who was sitting on the couch of 221B. He was a master of dissociation, that man, so it was extremely undifficult to hide a sleep-inducing something in a buscuit before handing it to a dissociated, self-proclaimed sociopath. 

It was low. And maybe not entirely legal. But John Watson hadn't had a moment's peace in so long golly gosh darn it, and it was almost eleven at night and Sherlock was looking for his _fucking_ violin and John just wanted to sleep. 

For John to sleep peacefully, Sherlock had to be sleeping peacefully. So, John drugged his best sociopath detective friend and Sherlock slept. Sherlock slept, so John slept. Transitive property. 

* * *

Sherlock was in his mind palace, but then something was wrong. Being a master of dissociation, he was dissociated from the world of London, so he came back and realized he was halfway through a chocolate biscuit. He frowned. 

He felt funny. His mind was moving slower. Still faster than an _ordinary_ person's, but slower than _his_ usual. So something was off. 

The biscuit was the only thing different. So it followed that the biscuit must be wrong. He put the buscuit on the coffeetable. He sat up, and looked at John, who was reading a book in the chair. 

The book was upside down. 

"John." 

"Yes, Sherlock?" His voice was too shifty. He was hiding something 

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "What did you put in the biscuit, John?" 

There was a moment of silence in which John shifted and pretended to read his book, which was still upside down. 

"John." 

"Nothing." 

"Don't lie to me, John." 

"It's nothing, Sherlock." 

This was still an obvious lie. Sherlock left the room. 

His train of thought had been derailed by this hiccup, so Sherlock went to his room and set to pacing. 

Being the master of dissociation that he was, Sherlock went back to the Disney Princess Sparkle Castle to solve the violent murder. 

Something was off. 

* * *

John went up to Sherlock's room half an hour later to find his best friend sprawled on the floor in an undignified position that would have driven him to shoot himself if he'd known John was there. 

But he didn't know. So John dragged Sherlock into bed and tucked him in. If Sherlock knew, he would jump off a bridge and let himself drown. 

But Sherlock did not know, so John drew the covers over the Dissociation Master and tucked them under his chin. He smiled in a way that screamed _sentiment_ and _fondness_ , an expression that would have driven Sherlock to picking a fight with a Kraken, if he'd seen. 

But Sherlock did not see. Sherlock did not know. 

And John Watson slept. 

* * *

When Sherlock woke, it was to find that there was a blanket over his head. He scowled. He removed the blanket ~~by thrashing around~~ in a very collected manner. 

Then he noticed the amplified senses. The differences in his sight. 

His eyes narrowed. 

Then he happened to glance down and see two black paws. 

"Huh." It came out as a meow. 

"This is an interesting development." 


End file.
